


Wasting time

by QSF



Category: Kamen Rider Kuuga, Pacific Rim (2013) RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, nsfw propts from my tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1803100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QSF/pseuds/QSF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short nsfw porn things from my tumblr askbox.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wasting Time

**Author's Note:**

> Raleigh and Newt from Pacific Rim.

As Newt’s shirt comes off, his tattoos are unveiled, and Raleigh didn’t know that scientists could be this nasty. Not that he cares, right now nasty is where he lives, what he wants. The outlet where he can let himself be crude, be brutal, be the person he doesn’t want to show her. Mako. The one worthwhile person in his life.

It bleeds into the drift anyway, his more reasonable mind keeps telling him. You can trust her with this. You are drift compatible. She would understand.

He knows this, but as he shares a quick grin with Newt he wonders if he wants her to. He’s not sure he understands himself, not why he laughs at Newt’s bad joke as he rips off the foil surrounding the condom. Not why he takes such pleasure in rolling it on, in feeling Newt harden even more under his hands.

He certainly not sure that he understands why he’d be so willing to bend over for another man without a fight.

“For science,” Newt jokes as always when he pushes in, a bit harder and rougher than he needed to, and Raleigh gasps and pushes back to meet him.

Newt understands. The need for this. Clearing their heads. Getting their shit together. It was better than starting fights, and maybe Hansen would get the stick out of his ass if he did this on a regular basis.

Not that Raleigh wants to share. Not really. Because Newt knows how to fuck him just right. Just hard enough, and sweet enough, and long enough to make him not care anymore.

And maybe she understands. Maybe that’s the reason for her blushes. They are drift compatible, and he will trust her with this as well. With this sordid little thing that he needs so much.

It was not like he had much time to waste.

But some of it he wanted to waste here.

With Newt. With a man whose tattoos he sometimes licked without listening to the giggling protests. With someone that could unapologetically fuck him into the mattress and then reveal that he’d been planning his next dissection just to keep from coming too early. With someone who he could occasionally fold up beneath him and make recite mathematic tables as he fucked him, disregarding the protests that was Hermann’s deal, not his.

Maybe he wasn’t wasting time at all.

Maybe he was just being human.

Right now that was the best answer he had in the face of a world that was ending.


	2. Sum of her parts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tsubaki being shown by [partner(s) of choice] how to treat a person like a *person* in bed and not just a collection of body parts.

The bed creaked under their weight, the room swathed in unnatural darkness. Tsubaki ran his over the form he couldn’t see, tracing the rectus femoris where it intersected with the vastus medialis. The skin was softer than he had imagined, that such a fragile organ could contain so much woman never ceased to amaze him.

“Your tibialis anterior makes the most wonderful curve,” he mumbled, following the length of Sakurako’s leg with his hand.

”If you compliment my phalanx next, don’t expect me to be flattered.” The voice in the dark was exasperated, but her hands kept trailing his stomach, skimming over the external oblique. Luckily he wasn’t ticklish, and they were close enough now that his arousal was no stranger to her.

“Why? You have the most elegant metatarsals as well, I told you so when I kissed them earlier.” Her feet were small and dainty, such an elegant sum of their parts.

“Women would rather be complimented on their shoes.” The laugh was sweet, but the nails curved up towards his pectorals, leaving the slightest traces of red in their wake.

“But shoes can be bought,” he protested, reaching up into the darkness for the woman as she pulled back. “Your body is you.”

“My brain is me. I’m more than just a body.” The words were a little sharper, and she caught one of his hands in hers, biting gently at his finger, hard enough to send a shiver down his spine.

“Is that why I got the blindfold?” It was unnerving but thrilling, knowing that he couldn’t see her, but she could see him.

“Maybe not seeing me will help you with actually seeing me.” She guided his hands along her body, and Tsubaki wondered if she didn’t realize that he worked by touch as much as eyesight. Pressing against her torso he could feel the gently ridged ribs, the softness of her stomach such a different texture as he slid his hands down to her waist. If he pressed, he would feel her organs… the way they lay sheathed inside the hollow of her abdomen.

“I can still feel you though,” he pointed out, but kept himself from saying the rest out loud. He was trying, and she was a patient teacher, but… sometimes he liked being bad far more than being good.

“Don’t make me take away your hands as well,” she teased, but there was steel there, just like the glint of handcuffs he had spotted in her handbag earlier.

Tsubaki wondered idly whether she had ‘borrowed’ them, or whether it was Godai who had a hand in this. And whether he should curse or thank him.

Probably the latter. 


End file.
